Reaper Of The Drifting Moon の小説・ストーリー

I said. The flight was a blur of G-force and emerald fire. The Reapers had deployed "Sentries"—smaller, insectoid drones that swarmed the sky like locusts. Fenris pushed the flyer to its limits, weaving through the obsidian pillars and diving into canyons to avoid the scanning beams. "Hold on!" Fenris roared as a Reaper beam clipped our wing. The flyer spun, the world turning into a kaleidoscope of green and grey. I felt Silas’s shadows wrap around the interior of the cabin, acting as a cushion of dark energy. I looked out the window and saw the mountain.

Three weeks ago. The night of the blood moon. I ran alone through the high passes, heavy with young—nine moons along, the pup quickening with every step. The trail gave way. I tumbled, striking stone and ice, wedged in a crevice where the cold would finish what gravity began. I sent my call through the spirit-web to the healers. Needed the Alpha's permission to cut the pup from my dying flesh. Ninety-nine summons. Silence. The hundredth time, the bond stirred.

Rico and Elena’s teams were fighting above, but down here it was just us and her. The final confrontation was personal. Seraphina revealed the deepest truth: Project Reaper wasn’t just genetic manipulation. It was part of a larger ritual that required the child to be “claimed” in this exact chamber under the blood moon. The anonymous insider had been a plant, the real traitor was closer than we thought. But as she raised a ceremonial dagger, something shifted. Elias, Lucian’s son, stepped forward from the shadows where he had fallen with us. The boy looked at Aurora, then at Seraphina.

"They know you're mine now, Elara. Which means they'll keep coming. And I will keep killing them." His eyes flashed gold. "Until they learn."

They moved to the porch as the moon began to climb over the Highlands. It was a Blood-Moon—deep, bruised red. In the old world, it would have been a signal for the Silicon Empires to attack or for the Bone-Code to trigger a purge. But here, in the fold of the weave, it was just a moon. A beautiful, silent rock in the sky. Aradaa leaned his head on Kaelor’s shoulder. He felt the steady rise and fall of the shifter’s chest. For the first time in a thousand years, his mind was silent. No data-streams. No warnings. No static pings.

Even Angela sat in dead silence, eager to hear what Deanna had to say. "The Moon wept for his miracle, who was devoured and whose abilities were used for evil. Some say the countless stars in the sky are his shed tears, etched in the sky forever to commemorate his loss. To deal with Draven, the Moon performed his fourth miracle; he severed his bond with his celestial wolf and sent the great Silver Lord to Earth to stop the creature. It is believed that since the Moon and his wolf have parted, werewolves can no longer hear his voice." Deanna heaved a saddened sigh as she thought about her words, then continued, "Draven only escaped with injury and has gone dormant ever since. Some say the cre

Then a voice rose from the chaos — low, commanding, and cruelly calm. “Stand down!” The Priest of the Moon stepped from the shadows, his silver robes streaked with blood. His hair, white as frost, clung to his face with sweat. In his hands, he held the Moonstaff — a weapon carved with runes that glowed brighter than the moon itself. He raised it high, chanting words older than our bloodlines. Silver light poured from the heavens like rain. The feral wolves whimpered, claws digging into the earth as if in prayer. One by one, they fell to their knees, their bodies trembling as the madness drained from their eyes.

never truly escaped. The "Second Floor" rift shattered like glass. The True Horizon The Mosaic-World didn't land in the "Real World" or the "Second Floor." It punched through the entire stack of realities. When the light faded, the Reapers were gone. The Audit-Collectors were gone. The stars were gone. Leo woke up in his tank, but the glass was gone. He stepped out onto the floor of the Spire, his body solid, his skin no longer glowing, but scarred with the history of his journey. He walked to the balcony and looked out.

“You must bind your new self. Bleed it into the earth. If the Moon has chosen you, she must accept you.” Elira took the blade without flinching. She drew it across her palm—clean and precise. The blood that spilled was not red. It shimmered silver. The earth drank it eagerly. And the grove answered. --- A beam of moonlight split the sky—thick, physical, like a pillar descending from the heavens. It struck the circle’s center, sending a wave of heat outward. The Revenants hissed and backed away. Within the light, a figure formed.

Chapter 41: The Third Eye ​The sky didn't just darken; it screamed. ​The sound of a thousand metallic wings vibrated through the humid air of Life Zero. The Reapers—sleek, black drones shaped like mechanical wasps—descended in a suffocating cloud. Their red optical sensors flickered like a swarm of angry stars, locking onto the silver heat radiating from Julian’s skin. ​"Stay behind me!" Julian roared. ​He slammed his fists together, and a massive dome of silver light erupted, a shield so bright it carved the shadows out of the jungle. But the Reapers didn't crash into it. They hovered, their mechanical stingers extending, pulsing with a disruptive blue frequency.